


I messed up, I confess that I got hooked

by teaspoonofdoom



Series: body/mind pollution, electro execution [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: (I'm Babitha trash don't mind me this is still Thompkean), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And of course this is less straight than you would think, Character Study, F/F, F/M, I unlike Gotham's writers remember Barbara is supposed to be 'more zen' and know martial arts, Lee is too good; neither we nor any of them deserve her, Male-Female Friendship, My perception of grundy/butch: babyboy baby/evil (jk), POV Multiple, Plotty, She' emotionally drained by the situation with Tabitha, This story is everything you didn't know you needed but everything I've always wanted, but if we look at the show's timeline this starts before 4x10 and ends after 4x11, who on her end misses Barbara more than she figured she would
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13908966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaspoonofdoom/pseuds/teaspoonofdoom
Summary: Barbara looks for a change; trying to forget a past lover she falls yet again far too easily.Lee just wants to help everyone. She's too hard on herself and too easy on everyone else.Ed starts to slowly find himself, lose Lee. He doesn't know what horrifies him more.Grundy has a big storm coming.--The blond gulps down and stops Lee from standing up with a hand in the air. Talks in what would be her truthful voice. Or I'll-cut-the-crap voice."Okay. Also, you're gaining power around here and I like to align myself with influential leaders."Penguin comes to mind."Only to take them down later.""No, not only. And I'm not really dying to have the Narrows, you know." It's only half an insult so Lee narrows her eyes but stays in her seat.





	I messed up, I confess that I got hooked

**Author's Note:**

> Since the show won't give Barbara an interesting storyline and stick to it I will. I consider this a fix-it but it's going to be just as bad as canon I promise. Writen just because everything is better with Thompkean and yet there is too little of it and because I'm too intrigued by the Narrows plot for my own good (also I coudn't get that scenario out of my system any other way). Comments, complimentary or critiques, are very appreciated!
> 
> Many special thanks to @feurio for pointing out my (numerous) mistakes and, in doing so, helping me improve this work!

Shooting Butch was the perfect blend of sour betrayal and sweet revenge. Her upper hand and mania to tune down the hollow feeling they left her with. His razor sharp words spoken in solemn voice to drive her to the edge. They did. For all of his oh-so-great comprehension of her, he failed to calculate how angry he could get her before she pulled the trigger. Did he feel powerful watching her shake, laughing in her face? The buzz in her head was calming.

Being electrocuted was a cacophony. Wanting to hope but to hurt, to move forward but to put an end as well. Not wanting to cry or fight, to kiss or yell. Kill or get killed. Gun-Whip, 1:0. Lukewarm success. White hot electricity.

Shooting Cherry was a way to shut her mouth, her hypocritical, arrogant mouth. A way to shock the crowd, say a _fuck you_ to Penguin and get the hell out. It didn't make it any less satisfying. Cheers and Lee's half-smile walk her out the door.

  
  


Tabitha doesn't let her touch her when in bed anymore. Ties her up and bruises. If Barbara attempts to talk she bites her lips. Afterwards says her new composure is freaking her out. When they stumble into Butch- or Grundy, whatever- Tabitha stops looking at her altogether. Lets her take control and either stares at the ceiling or keeps her eyes shut.

Barbara doesn't get mad. She unlearned that. Emerging from the water. Hitting the fighting mat. Time for a change.

  
  


"Hello, Lee." The sugar sweet voice floods her senses. The barrel of her gun is pressed to Barbara's stomach before either of them can blink. Lee grits her teeth, glares.

"Whatever happened to 'wouldn't catch me dead in a place like this'?"

Barbara smiles, bats her eyelashes.

"Easy crowd. It grew on me." She takes half a step closer. Her heels don't even make a sound. Lee suddenly registers the crowd's cheers and yells. Her shoulders tense all the more at that.

"One of these days I'm going to pull the trigger." She hisses, moving the gun a bit so it digs at Barbara's exposed flesh.

"Can't wait." Barbara laughs breathlessly and lays her hand on the weapon. Lee's finger quivers at the trigger. "Until then, tune down the gunplay, we're in public."

"People around here glorify untamed outbursts of violence." Lee tucks it back in her pants. Grundy tears off someone's arm on stage.

"So why aren't you banging my head on the floor this very moment? I know you've got a taste for it." Barbara coos like she wasn't the one to start it. Lee takes a generous sip from her flask, something she'd longed to do since the conversation started.

"I'm tired."

"Let me buy you a drink." Lee quirks an eyebrow.

"In my own place?"

"Yep. I have plans for it you'd like to hear." Barbara smacks her lips and takes the stairs with a cheerful swing of her hips.

"I doubt that," Lee mutters.

"After you."

At the end of the day, free booze is free booze.

  
  


"Rusty Nail and Apple Jack for the lady." Barbara smiles and puts some cash on the bar.

"You pay, you choose, then." Lee taps her fingers on her thigh, half-expecting an associate of Barbara's to show up and abduct her.

"Something like that."

"What do you want?" She shifts in her stool. It's not as easy to pretend she is unfazed by Barbara as she hoped it would be.

"Some nice company. And the lion's share. After all, I was the one to shoot Cherry."

"You want this place?"

Not what Lee expected. She thought Barbara was in need of some medication, drugs, maybe a Narrows safe house, or was just in the mood to bother Lee. Why would she be interested in the club? Did she kill Cherry so she could bargain with Lee?

"I want your partnership, Lee."

It's some sort of trick then. Lee is not going to fall for it. She stays silent. Barbara starts talking with her hands. A bony finger to her forehead.

"Think about it: Neither you, nor Dumb and Dumber have any experience with handling a club." A thumb pressing against her chest. Does she always go for the deep v neck these days? "While _I_ -"

"What do _you_ get out of this?" Lee interrupts her and reconsiders just getting up and leaving. Their drinks arrive.

"Truth be told, I can't stand your dear sister-in-law and taking a break from Gotham seems like a good idea." Barbara shrugs her shoulders. Then leans in a bit and whispers like they're conspirers. "You and _Cherry's_ only sweeten the deal."

"You think I'd buy that?" Barbara takes a sip from her Rusty Nail and Lee looks at her own drink, a slice of apple floating in it. Screw it. It may as well be poisonous. Snow White style. It wouldn't be beyond Barbara to bribe someone working for Lee.

The blond gulps it down and stops Lee from standing up with a hand in the air. Talks in what would be her truthful voice. Or I'll-cut-the-crap voice.

"Okay. _Also_ , you're gaining power around here and I like to align myself with influential leaders."

Penguin comes to mind.

"Only to take them down later."

"No, not only. And I'm not really dying to have the Narrows, you know." It's only half an insult so Lee narrows her eyes but stays in her seat.

"Just hear me out." Barbara nudges her glass towards her and continues. "As I said, I have the experience you lack as well as the spare time. I imagine you have tons of stuff to worry about and work on." Lee takes a sip. No symptoms yet. It may take some time for the poison to kick in. "I won't be of help in that clinic of yours and you have different ambitions and ideas for the people of the Narrows, but I'll support you in your doings. And take care of this club. Improve it, too."

"And what are you hoping to gain in exchange for that?"

"Well, protection. If whoever gets to rule Gotham decides they don't want me around. And percentage of the profits.

"That's it?"

"Yes." Barbara beams, thinks she has won her over already. "We have a deal?"

"I'll sleep on it." Lee drains her glass in one go and stands up.

At the door, she sneaks a glance at the bar. Barbara is looking at her, sucking on a lemon peel.

  
  


Lee goes to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water before heading to her bedroom. She hears footsteps from behind her. Maybe she woke Ed or Grundy up when she came home.

When she turns around, she faces none other than Barbara. Smiling wickedly at her. Lee's hand wraps around the handle of a knife lying by the washbasin. Barbara's bright eyes follow the motion.

"Not that I don't love a good role-reversal but I thought we put that sort of thing behind us."

This knife is not as big as the one Barbara tried to use on her. Lee swings it. Barbara deflects the blow. Her right hand pushing at Lee's elbow, left one - at the wrist. The knife falls to the floor. Barbara grabs that same wrist and twists Lee's arm behind her back, causing them to press chest to chest.

"So you _did_ want the other cheek." Barbara's fingers caress down Lee's cheekbone, nails digging in. Lee pulls her head to the side. Barbara uses the opportunity to whisper in her ear.

"Did you hear I died?"

"Rumors. You're here." Lee makes eye contact. Stares her down. Barbara looks almost scary in the dim light. Eyes unblinking, voice eerie.

"I came back different. I think you'd enjoy the change." She cracks a smile and it resembles the one Lee's familiar with. Cocky and unruly.

"We won't find out." Lee steps on her foot. Hard. And pushes her away from her. "Leave."

"And to think I spent my last cash on your drink." Barbara shakes her head and takes a few steps back. Not really making her way to the door.

"I'll buy you the train ticket," Lee deadpans. Barbara rests a hand on the old couch.

"Or," she drags out the 'O', "I could crash here for tonight."

Lee exhales through her nose.

"If I kick you out, you're just going to break back in, right?"

"Yeah, probably."

  
  


Ed thinks he must be hallucinating again. Not that it makes much more sense. Him hallucinating Barbara Kean asleep on their shabby couch. Firstly, his hallucinations like to chew on him, not rest, and secondly, she isn't important enough to him for his subconsciousness to form images.

Lee moves past him. A hand to her head. Hangover, he can tell by now. On her way to the cupboard, she takes the blanket that's fallen off the couch and throws it over Barbara's sleeping form. She groans. She _is_ real.

"'Morning, Ed." Lee takes out a cup.

Ed finally makes it over the doorstep and to the table, all the while eyeing the couch. Dress pants and bare feet peeking out from under a woolen blanket.

"Lee, is there a good reason for Barbara Kean to be here?" She drinks from her coffee, Irish, he's sure, without cream.

"No. It's just how it's going to be from now on."

Barbara Kean. In the Narrows. Ridiculous. If his brain was working properly, he's sure, he could have put the pieces together, find an explanation but now he can't make heads or tails of it.

"You can't have her around. She's insane!"

The couch creaks. Barbara speaks in a voice a little more hoarse but as irritating as usual.

"Oh, and you're the sanest person in Gotham? Or in the Narrows, for that matter."

Ed ignores her. She cracks her back. Lee, unlike her, may provide some straightforward answers.

"Why is she here?"

Lee seems unfazed by the unnerving woman and the discomposed Ed. But she wears that look most of the time. Exception being when she works in the clinic.

"To help me with the club." What's there to help with? Is Ed not enough?

"Why would she-"

A vase is knocked over.

"Grundy kill!"

Barbara jumps behind the couch and throws a shoe at Grundy, who is slowly but surely getting close to her with the intention to, of course, kill.

Lee has gotten to her feet and places herself between Barbara, now standing, and Grundy, still groaning.

"No, no, Grundy, stop! Ed!"

With some reluctance, Ed grabs Grundy by the arms.

"Calm down, buddie. She's no threat."

"Lady take friend Ed away."

Lee speaks up again, calm and reassuring: "She won't."

 _But she might take you._ A voice in the back of Ed's head whispers.

Disagreeing with his other self never ends particularly well for him. Plus, his friendship with Lee is probably the best thing that has happened to him since Isabella. He can't let Barbara, of all people, get in the way of that.

"Um, Lee, can we talk? Just the two of-"

Barbara interrupts. By vomiting on the old couch. Ed swears he saw her put a finger down her throat.

Lee is at her side instantly. Holds her messy hair, takes her to her en-suite bathroom and asks Ed to bring fresh water (it's Narrows water so not so fresh).

He takes some comfort in that.

  
  


Ed is tasting his tea when Lee re-enters the kitchen. Only it's not Lee but Barbara who smells like Lee. He was about to say the kettle is hot but he takes another sip. Barbara yellps. He needs more sugar. She is wearing socks and an oversized shirt. The one Lee wore last Thursday, he thinks.

Barbara sits across from him on the table. One of its legs is shorter. It shakes when Barbara leans on it to take the sugar container from him, his tea nearly spills. She removes the towel from her head and splashes of water hit his glasses' lens.

She must be using Lee's shampoo. They share a bathroom now. That's why she smells like her. Does this mean Ed smells like Grundy, they share a bathroom as well? Don't they all use the same shampoo? Lee buys it.

The three, now possibly four, of them live in the Narrows equivalent of a penthouse: two bedrooms (master bedroom for Lee, and a former children's room for Ed and Grundy), two bathrooms and a relatively big kitchen slash dining room.

It's one thing, Ed sharing a room with Grundy, even a bunk bed. It's another, sharing a bathroom, a toilet. Never did he think he'd have to hold Butch Gilzean's dick while he pees. He starts reading 'Potty training for Boys', buys a toilet target sticker, even shows Grundy how he's supposed to pee standing up. After a while when his aim doesn't get any better, Ed decides to make him do it all sitting down.

Explaining morning wood and hard-ons, in general, is a ride. Weird, toxic swamp semen is harder to wash off.

Barbara clears her throat and breaks his unpleasant train of thought.

"You gonna eat that?" Her fingers already lifting his toast off the plate.

"No."

"I'm doing some staff interviews today. Wanna join in?"

"No. I'm going to help Lee with some _important_ matters."

"Money is important."

"Huh?"

"You know, being a crime boss or the Narrows leader can't be cheap. You need to buy and sell and gain. Owning a free clinic and a trashy club isn't very profitable. Don't get me started on Cherry's unpaid debts-"

"They are Cherry's to pay, not Lee's."

"Cherry is dead."

"You killed her, you got Lee into this and now you're trying to-."

"Look, Lee didn't _have_ to take Cherry's place. You suggested it, she told me. Now I'm sure Penguin took care of some of the debts but he won't from now on. We collect what is due to Cherry, pay up her part, improve the club and establish Lee as the new leader." She counts on four of her fingers. "Simple plan, Ed, not your MO. You think you could follow through?"

"Mhm." He stands up, unable to be around her for any longer.

  
  


When Ed walks in Lee's office, he finds Barbara sitting on the desk with Lee in her chair behind it. She moves her head to the side to get a look at him over Barbara's shoulder.

"Ed, is it urgent?"

Barbara spins on the surface of the desk until she is half-facing him.

"As a wise man once said, grown-ups are talking." Ed doesn't know who that may be and politely ignores her broad hint.

"Court duty. People are starting to gather."

"I'll be down in five." Lee nods. Barbara smiles, it's different from her outright smug smirk, it reminds Ed of the one he wears in photos of these school competitions he'd won without any actual competition. "I have some things to discuss with Barbara."

He's not a homemade volcano kid. He won't take silver, not after Barbara. He should have a say in this.

"I still don't get what she's doing here."

Barbara's smile twitches but he doesn't look at it. Lee sighs before beginning:

"Since I run the club but Barbara was the one to shoot Cherry-"

"Do the math, Riddleboy. I kill Cherry, I get _Cherry's_ ." Barbara is irritated but he's seen her crazy mad and survived, so he laughs.

"It's a funny proclamation when you think about how _I_ shot Oswald, but you couldn't quite get to his throne."

She stands up.

"The situation is entirely different. For instance: you're not needed at all."

He takes a step forward.

"As a manager of the place-"

"Remind me, when have you been anything other than a sidekick?"

"Enough! Both of you!" Lee slams her hands on the table. "Ed, wait for me outside." When he opens his mouth to argue, she adds a sharp "Please.", not a suggestion but an instruction.

He doesn't slam the door only out of fear it could break and not to prove he acts like a child.

  
  


"You were saying?" Barbara looks at her like nothing has happened, not that much had happened. Lee walks around the desk as Barbara leans more on it.

"Here," Lee gestures to a cupboard with files, "are all the staff documents, mind that the phone numbers and addresses may be outdated. I haven't gotten around to go through them."

"Okie."

"You're free to hire and fire. Do your thing. Don't make me regret it."

"Of course." Barbara rolls her eyes and straightens her pantsuit jacket, the one she wore last night. She pats Lee on the forearm. "Good luck with the court."

"Thank you."

Ed starts talking before she fully closes the door behind her.

"Lee, I just don't get why you are letting her be around you. After everything she's done."

 _Same reason I let you._ Lee bites her tongue.

She hasn't forgotten the Hell on Earth the two of them had put her through. On different occasions. She's just too hurt and far too guilty herself to seek any vengeance.

It wouldn't help anyone: won't heal her, won't teach them. Like she couldn't help anyone when she had the opportunity.

Maybe if she knew Barbara before Jason Skolimski got to her, she would now be different, a little less broken. Wouldn't have killed her parents, wouldn't have been to Arkham, wouldn't have been a Maniac, wouldn't have that Jim Gordon obsession that poisons her mind. Or Lee remembers what it was like to be poisoned and relates to her now. Or she tries to heal herself by treating Barbara.

If only she had noticed how deeply broken a nervous forensic scientist once was, maybe Kristen wouldn't have died, her own _baby_ wouldn't have, Jim wouldn't have served time in Blackgate, the two of them wouldn't have been separated, broken off, she wouldn't have met Mario and led him to his death. She wouldn't have taken the virus, so many people wouldn't have been infected, hurt, dead.

Lee can't undo the past.

She can doctor the people, she can re-build the Narrows, she can unlock Ed's good side, she can make sure Barbara is stable.

  
  


She hears people chattering on the ground floor, takes the stairs two at a time, Ed follows, _keeps_ talking.

"You cannot trust her. She played a friend to Oswald, too, but she planned his downfall."

"Yes and she worked with you. _You_ lived under Penguin's roof and _you_ betrayed him. Now I don't get your point."

The only reason Lee is confident the two won't conspire against her (once they no longer need her) is that their last team-up didn't work out well and they still rub each other the wrong way.

"He betrayed me first! But that's not the point. The point is, Barbara only has _her_ best interest in mind. And would use anyone to get what she wants."

Lee hasn't heard the whole story about what went down between Ed and Oswald Cobblepot but it's clear there was a lot of trust and even more betrayal in their relationship. Ed is so fixed on, well, fixing his brain he doesn't give himself a chance to mend his heart.

"Okay. I can handle that. And it's not like you don't do the same." Some venom slips into her words but they are ringing true. What is a real friendship to Grundy, started as merely a ploy on Ed's part. While she believes he has grown to consider Grundy and herself friends by now, it doesn't mean he hadn't planned to use them since day one.

  
  


After the court, Lee and Edward didn't shut up about some guy named Sampson.

"I'm saying that, even if we don't need Grundy to fight for us, it'd be reasonable to bring along some muscle. This is enemy territory."

"I'm going to talk to him, reasonably."

"And what if Grundy attacks Barbara without you or me to stop him."

"You want to stay, too?"

"Noo."

So half an hour later, Barbara has to have a 'session' with Grundy after which they'll be friends forever and he'll swear to protect her, no matter what. At least that's what she understood when Lee explained it to her.

Lee holds her hand. It makes Barbara feel a bit better until she notices she's holding Grundy's as well. Like he couldn't break it and kill Barbara bare-handed without struggle. Or do it with a single hand while still holding Lee's. In this scenario, Barbara dies holding her other hand. So it's somewhat better.

Grundy _smells_ and she wants to go open the window. Or go and catch her breath outside. Just to go.

Of course, if she does, nothing guarantees zombie King Kong won't tear off a limb of hers and beat her to death with it. Right now or later when Lee and Edward take off.

"Barbara is a friend now. She helps me. You won't harm Barbara, right? Promise me, Grundy."

Lee talks and talks and Grundy only grunts, puffs, frowns, stares at Barbara with his dark-rimmed, blank eyes. She can't shake off the memory of their first encounter. Him talking like an animated cowboy or something, explaining the oh-so-complicated mafia business her fiancé dragged himself into with simple words because she was just a dumb blond. These days fucker can't form a proper sentence most of the time. She would have gotten over the mocking. God knows, she's done her fair share of it by now. If only he hadn't been sniffing her, sizing her up, sitting too damn close. _You ever been with a criminal? Some ladies find it a turn-on._

She can say they're quits. After all she killed him. Still, the proximity is making her uncomfortable. Lee hasn't stopped rambling. Grundy starts to nod. Barbara can only register a 'Barbara Grundy friend!' before being crushed in his arms.

Lee, always a help, makes him loosen his hold a bit. Then Barbara realises. It's a _hug_. She taps him on the back awkwardly. He lifts her off the floor.

"Grundy! Grundy, let's not get overjoyed here," she manages. Back on the ground, she turns to Lee, who is oddly smiling. A glance at her watch and she turns restless.

"I need to head off to Sampson. All should be fine but if he tries to hurt you, use F-I-R-E." Her hand lingers on Barbara's arm as she spells out Grundy's biggest fear. Barbara isn't afraid to be with her back to him anymore.

  
  


Barbara knocks on the office door. No one answers. Lee's sitting behind the desk, mixing some liquids. Edward told her about the clinic and Barbara itches to shoot someone between the eyes again.

"What you working on, Doc? A magic potion that will fix Eddie's brain?" She takes the seat in front of the desk, not too eager to sit on the desk and get chemicals on her clothes.

"A poison, actually." Lee's voice has something darker in it. Barbara wonders how it must have sounded when she was infected. And laughs.

"Even better. What he'd do?"

"It's for Sampson. I'm going to need you to put it in his drink." Lee looks up. Her eyes clear, her edges sharp.

Barbara's soften.

"Any time."

  
  


Pretty Lady, light-haired one - Barbara - just came back. Called Grundy to help clean the clinic.

She steps on shattered glass, her shoes aren't very sure-footed, heels up and supported on tiny pins.

"Ugh! This Sampson is more trouble than he's worth. You should've seen him. Twice your size, maybe thrice!"

Grundy grunts in agreement. Barbara returns the knocked over chairs and tables back on four legs. Grundy helps her with the patient table.

She starts sweeping the glass off the floor and onto a dustpan and almost walks into a long lamp, half detached from the ceiling. She puffs again. Points at the lamp.

"You take that off," Grundy reaches out. "No! Wait, we need to turn the electricity off first."

"The ele-the electr-"

So many consonants.

"Whatever. Bring me my notebook. I'll have to add some stuff to the order."

Grundy goes to get it. Barbara yells.

"And a pen. Be careful not to break it this time." Pens too easy to break.

Grundy brings the notebook and two pens. Barbara drops the broken one into a trash bag. One of many.

"I suppose these were in that condition before," she runs her hand over the blinds. Opens the notebook.

"...Peanuts, glasses, retorts, fluorescent lamps," mutters to herself, then turns to Grundy and points the trash bags. "Take these out. Bring the mop."

Barbara is gone when he comes back.

  
  


Lee hangs her jacket on the back of a chair and sits on her bed. She rubs at her tired ankles as the en-suite bathroom door opens. Fumes and Barbara enter the room.

"Oh, you're back!" The woman gestures to the towel robe she's wearing, Lee's. "Do you mind terribly I used yours?"

"No, not terribly." She doesn't have her own, after all. Barbara wears that one outfit she arrived with as many times as she can, but most of the time she has to dress in Lee's clothes. At least until _her Sirens_ come around and bring her some of hers, as she likes to say.

A breeze from the open window waves Lee's bangs over her eyes, Barbara visibly shivers and Lee stands up to close it.

"How'd it go with Sampson?"

"He is leaving." She sounds proud to her own ears. She is. Barbara seems, too.

"Nice." She moves closer. A blush on her cheeks, perhaps from the shower. Is she still hot? Does she want to open, reopen, the window? "Can't wait to hear all about it."

Barbara stops in front of Lee, putting her in the way of the window if you look at it that way. If you don't, then Barbara has trapped her between herself and the window. Her hands grab at Lee's shoulders, soak the shirt over them. Lee lets her back hit the window, Barbara leans in as well.

"What are you-"

"Isn't it obvious?" She whispers, breath carrying the scent of cheap mint toothpaste, a wet lock of hair brushes Lee's cheek.

"Barbara."

"If you want me to spell it out for you, then..." Barbara kisses her. It's far less teeth than Lee imagined it would be. Just a firm push and pull, then tongue asking for more. Bare knees bumping into hers. Damp cheek pressed to hers. Goosebumps. Lee moves her away. Barbara says breathlessly, manages to make it sound like a joke:

"Oh, Lee, nothing would make me happier right now than if you took me to bed."

Her lips are red and wet. Lee's head is spinning.

"What."

"The couch." Barbara takes a step out of her space. Lee can breathe again. It helps her brain function. "It smells."

"Well, that may be because you puked on it." Lee's mind cogs start to work properly. And then...

"And I'm stiff all over." Barbara twists in a way that shifts the robe on her shoulders. It falls more loosely over her breasts, unveils a line from her collarbones down to her rib cage that Lee is getting familiar with. So she shouldn't let it get to her. She won't.

"Did you really just try to have sex with me so you could sleep in an actual bed afterwards."

"Well, not only." Barbara's good at being jokingly seductive. Lee will have to take her flirting with a pinch of salt.

"Just stay on your side of the bed."

"It will be hard but I'll manage. Oh, you want to hit the shower? You're gonna need this." She removes the towel altogether and hands it to Lee. She takes it without a word or a second glance. Barbara's shoulders are rosy, too. Lee would note how unhygienic it is to use the same towel but she can't find her voice.

She showers with cold water.

  
  


Barbara does keep her hands to herself but she snores, softer than Jim, and talks in her sleep, louder than Mario.

"I am sorry." She's twisted in the covers but her body is still. "Kill me if you don't believe me."

She whimpers and turns to the side.

  
  


Lee, apparently, sleeps in a ponytail, a high one. Barbara fell asleep before Lee got to bed that night, but the two of them woke up at pretty much the same time in the morning. And with her not-fully awake brain, Barbara can taste the 'Morning, Tabby.' in her dry mouth. Luckily, Lee is the one to talk first.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Better than most nights."

Lee's eyebrows frown and she opens her mouth to say something but there's a knock. On the window. Lee grabs her gun from the bedside table as her other hand tugs the covers up to her armpits.

Barbara looks at the window. A short figure clad in black leather. Barbara hops out of the bed. Opens the window.

"Ugh, about time." Selina drags a valise over the window frame. It falls on the floor. Barbara wraps her arms around herself because Selina doesn't look in the mood for hello hugs and because she's wearing only an oversized t-shirt. She pokes the valise with a bare toe. Must be her clothes.

"Thank you, Kitty Cat."

"No worries." Selina throws another two bags into the room with a groan. "Does Tabby know about you and-"

Barbara looks back at Lee, standing by the bed in her nightgown and socks (she sleeps with socks, nobody's perfect) and a blanket over her shoulders.

"Nothing has happened," she whispers back to Selina, who rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, right. Whatever, it's your business." Before she disappears, Barbara grabs her shoulder. She'd missed her. And Tabitha.

"Tonight. At the club downstairs. You and Tabby. Tell her." She's not even entirely sure if all would be ready by nightfall.

"Noted."

"And take care." Barbara says to an empty space.

"She always does." Lee speaks up, Barbara almost forgot she was there. It always mesmerized her how alone she could feel with other people in the room.

  
  


The workers take the 'C', 'H', 'R', 'R', 'Y' to the basement. All that's left of Cherry, these letters and a stain on the wall that Barbara always talks her way out of cleaning.

"Okay, let's light it up!"

_LEE'S_

Ed approaches two of the workers, a 40-something man with dirt on his face and a younger one with his hair clinging to his forehead.

"How much?" Ed takes out his wallet, it's Lee's, really, but she told him to keep an eye on them as they worked. Then pay them.

"Uh, we were paid in advance." The younger worker says, it earns him a slap on the back of the head from the other one. He lifts his cap to Ed and drags the younger guy away.

"Idiot, when people offer you money, you take it!"

  
  


"Should I say, 'Ladies, gentlemen, disappointed Grundy fans!' Like, disappointed 'cus he won't be fighting tonight. Would they get it? Did you?"

"Yes, I-"

"Oh, but you're a bad person to ask. Too smart. Where's Ed?"

"Ironing his suit."

"Finally polishing up his look."

"You can let him talk instead of you, you know. He's good at this kind of thing."

"I can do it."

"He, uh, told me the workers were pre-paid. That couldn't have been you..."

"It was."

"But you said you didn't have any money-"

"No, I said I didn't have any cash on me. Didn't say anything about bank accounts."

  
  


Lee puts a bobby pin in her hair. Barbara zips her dress up for her. Ed watches from behind the slightly open door.

Barbara removes the last of her hair rollers as Lee takes a closer look at her make-up at the floor mirror. The two are pushing at one another for a place in front of it. All the while smiling.

Ed's mind takes him back to a very different mirror. A clearer one, for sure. Up-market. Only the best for the Mayor. He and Oswald were smiling, too. More discreetly but just as genuine. He had never zipped nor buttoned any clothing of Oswald's but he'd imagined it enough times to almost feel the fabrics under his fingers. Even now, he remembered. Cashmere suits, silk ties. These he'd touch.

The hair cosmetics, the make-up he hadn't. He was never present when it was applied. He'd only come later, for the finishing touches. He'd sit on his bed, two doors from Oswald's bedroom, and wait for the stylists' footsteps to echo down the stairs. Then he'd go.

Oswald looked very different in the morning light than any other time. There was some calmness surrounding him with a touch of readiness. At other times of the day, he'd still have this composure (not on all occasions, of course) but it'd be because of his power, he'd exist to force and shape; in the mornings he'd enjoy loose control, bounded freedom, all his.

He was always already prepared by the time Ed joined him, but he liked to take his time, he could allow himself that. Fixed on a certain tie but asking for Ed's opinion. Leisurely buttoning his vest. Ed dressed as fast as he could, other people's voices making him anxious. A suit is an armor if done right. Oswald did him right.

Half his products must have been worth more than Barbara's and Lee's if counted together. They fix each other's. Oswald never asked Ed if his was proper, possibly because he was sure it was. And it was. Ed was fascinated day after day. He would have said so if he had known a way to approach the topic.

Barbara's hands curl on Lee's hips. She is standing behind her, Lee seemingly won the front place in front of the mirror, and peaking over her shoulder. The two look different in the evening light as well. Like they're used to co-existing. As if that is the course of nature. Like their lives have been leading them there; in front of a dirty mirror, leaning on a wall covered in mold; looking at their own and each other's reflection.

Ed is taken aback. The floor creaks.

He holds his breath and walks away on his tip-toes. No one notices him.

  
  


The neon cherry flickers, a neon gun lights on its side, it 'cocks' and 'fires', the cherry blinks twice and goes out.

And again. Tabitha rolls her eyes.

"You fancy?" Barbara drags out, an unpleasant smile stretching out on her glossy lips. Tabitha bites hers.

"Gets the message across." Selina hums and reaches out to take Barbara's sparkling champagne for herself. Barbara lets her.

"What did I miss on?"

"Don Falcone's funeral," Selina takes a sip and makes a face.

"And death." Tabitha adds so Selina won't school her about being unsociable and _difficult_ later.

Barbara's eyes widen but Tabitha knows she's not too surprised or interested. Selina doesn't, or she pretends she doesn't (since when does she bother with small talk), and waves a dismissible hand.

"It was boring and overdramatic."

"Who killed him?"

"Word is, Penguin. But he doesn't really have a motive."

"Like he had much motive to blow that kid up." Now Tabitha wishes she had a drink, too. But she's not here to have fun. Not that it looks like she's about to, anyway. She turns to Barbara who, of course, can't be as satisfied here as she lets on. "So what have you been up to?"

"Well," she begins with her I'm-so-glad-you-asked tone, "here I enjoyed low-level turf wars and..."

"Yeah?" Tabitha smirks, Selina's elbow connects with her ribs. Barbara licks her lips slowly, says even slower:

"A bed and board."

Tabitha feels a muscle in her jaw twitch, her fingernails dig into her own palms. No way Mrs almost-Gordon got her laid. Barbara is just messing with her. And Tabitha doesn't know why it's working.

Selina coughs.

"Soo, why not _Barbara's_."

"An 'L' and 'E' was cheaper."

"I thought you were waiting for Sofia to give you the Iceberg Lounge." Tabitha's voice is stable. Their baby -The Sirens- reborn. Screw her. Tabitha doesn't even enjoy being a club owner that much.

"I'm tired of owing people like her, like Penguin. Plus, redecorating his whole arctic theme would've been a pain."

"And I'm sure patching up all of this was a bed of roses."

"Well, there's no rose without a thorn. It felt kind of refreshing to start from next-to-a-scratch."

Selina laughs, more light-hearted than the other two.

"You're the first person to use 'fresh' for describing anything in the Narrows."

"Oh, but wouldn't you say my co-owner is looking just that?"

Barbara nods to the crowd and the three of them look at Leslie Thompkins, chatting, smiling brightly, patting people on the backs. Tabitha can admit she looks good, semi hair up-do, black dress complimentary for her figure.

Her eyes meet Barbara's and she raises her glass in salute. Briefly glances at Selina and Tabitha, each receiving a nod and a smile.

Barbara starts making her way to Thompkins without so much as a 'see you later' to her old friends.

Tabitha imagines she could take out her whip right there. Wrap it around Barbara's ankle and pull. Force her to the ground.

As if sensing the daydreaming, Barbara spins and crowds in Tabitha's space. Something cool is left in her hand. Barbara whispers:

"Wait 'till Grundy's away from Nygma." The thing is a rust-eaten key. "The room is soundproof and there is the equipment you'll need. Just make sure nobody sees you kidnapping or beating him. It'd be bad for our image."

"Bad for our image as in yours and theirs, not yours and ours, right?" Tabitha is grateful. She is, it just doesn't make her any less pissed. Barbara pecks her cheek.

"Have fun." And disappears among the people.

Next time Tabitha catches a glimpse of her, she is at Thompkins' side. The skin on her cheek burns where her lips touched it.

Selina complains how poor the guests are. All her pick-pocket victims had close to nothing.

Nygma joins Barbara and Thompkins. Tabitha has to find Butch.

  
  


Grundy wakes up tied to a chair. Pretty Lady is there, talking. She kidnapped him. He is not light.

She is scary.

"What Pretty Lady want?"

"When we were fighting, you called me Tabby, remember?"

 _No._ Ed angry at Ed. Pretty Lady angry at Grundy.

"Grundy want to go back to friend Ed." Ed helped him. Pretty Lady hit him. Kidnapped him.

She smiles. It doesn't look right. Like she don't like friend Ed. Talks about how he tied Grundy and Pretty Lady to chairs but that's her, not Ed. She shows Grundy her wrist. There's a curvy line across it. Grundy don't understand.

Pretty Lady kisses him. It's nice. Her hand is warm on his face.

"Remember me, Butch." She looks sad, "I'm Tabby. I'm your Tabby."

_"Grundy sorry."_

She is, too, she says. But she looks scary again.

"So you're gonna remember me, Butch. Or I'm gonna beat your head in."

A metal pipe hits him. Time and time again. Pretty Lady angry. And strong.

Grundy don't know how long it goes on.

"I'm sorry." She pants, kisses. "I tried."

She is tired. And disappointed.

Pretty Lady walks away. Grundy blacks out.

  
  


Barbara thinks Lee is going to step on her neck and break it. She may deserve it. Gasps for air. Lee's knee pokes her cheek. She sits on Barbara's chest, lack of breath again, delicious weight, and her hand grabs locks of pale hair, tugs at it, lovely pain.

Lee lifts herself up and guides Barbara's head between her thighs. Lets out soft pants and bitten-off moans as Barbara works her tongue in long strokes before swirling it inside her.

Lee's palms meet the bed frame and only the bed frame. Barbara's travel the world, map the entirety of her long and strong legs, stop at the ankle to disentangle her panties from it and toss them. Returns to her hips, up her back where she drags her nails down and Lee's hair is immeasurably too long. It's everywhere.

Barbara has to work her hands through so many dark locks that, when she reaches for Lee's bra, one of them is tangled in hair. She opens it with the other.

Lee finally lets go of the bed frame, discards the bra and with a whimper and a hand to Barbara's chin moves away from her mouth. Craws down until they are pressed from shoulders to feet.

Barbara takes a few deep breaths while smoothing down Lee's hair. The other woman rubs circles on her hips, slowly takes off her panties.

Covers Barbara's mouth with hers. It's the first time she actively kisses her. Barbara is half sure Lee simply wants to taste herself. Her other half lets itself feel wanted by someone. At last. They break off the kiss. Pants and breaths merging. Sweaty bangs pressing together. Barbara's legs have wrapped themselves around Lee's hips and are tugging her to fully lean on Barbara. Lee untangles them and moves untill her thigh is between them. Eats up Barbara's moan.

Three hours later Barbara is still awake. Eyes wide in the dark and fingers working herself under the blanket.

Lee's breath hits her neck. She speaks in her ear.

"Go to sleep, Barbara."

She comes and she does. More detailed: she comes, Lee kisses below her ear, she licks her fingers clean, invades Lee's side of the bed and falls asleep half on top of her.

  
  


Ed clinks his glass with Lee's as Barbara sips from hers. He cheers:

"To _Lee's_!" The two women echo it back, laughing. Barbara's palm has found its way to Lee's waist _again_. He doesn't know why it bothers him as much as it does. _Don't you, now?_

"You've outdone yourself!" Lee yells over the music, it's directed at Barbara. She replies with something that may be 'Please, couldn't have done it without you.' Frankly, it's too loud for Ed to be sure.

"Nice speech, too." He humors Barbara. It really wasn't. She won over the public at 'all drinks on the house tonight', though.

"Oh, Baltasar! I need to talk to him about the dog races." And with that, Lee leaves him alone with her. It's almost like these GCPD office parties, only messier and smelling worse.

"Soo, I hope you're enjoying yourself," Barbara smirks.

"I'm not much of a night club person."

"Prefer one-man show, huh?"

Ed notices a fallen eyelash on her cheek. Doesn't mention it. She doesn't get to have any more wishes. Not that he actually believes in these superstitions. But it's a little flaw in her appearance. So he enjoys it.

"Funny."

"You are." She bares her teeth, an excuse of a smile.

"And what are you?"

"I'm lucky." Her eyes watch over his shoulder, he doesn't need to take a look to know she's looking at Lee.

"Do you think that's the way Oswald felt when he talked to Isabella?"

It's his voice. But it's not coming out of his mouth and it's not trapped inside his head. He looks around. Nothing. When he faces Barbara, he sees himself, his other self, the Riddler next to her. His elbow on her shoulder.

Ed gasps, the Riddler laughs, Barbara frowns.

"What?" She lifts a hand to her face, rubs under her eye, possibly in fear of ruined make-up, the eyelash stays on the other cheek. She looks behind herself as well.

Ed mentally shouts at his mirroring face, no not mirroring, the other is smirking, enjoying himself.

_How dare you compare Isabella to Barbara? Us to Oswald?!_

"Oh, don't overdramatize. We both know you wouldn't mind Barbara under a train. It'd make you Lee's number one again."

Oh, oh, Barbara is looking at him like he's nuts.

"I, uh, saw someone almost- almost spill wine. Over a white shirt." She nods slowly. Ed feels like he has to keep explaining, he hates the feeling. The Riddler covers his mouth with a hand. "It's like watching a catastrophe in slow motion. Horrible!"

"Mhm," she hums. "Yeah, I get it. I'm staring at one at the moment."

The Riddler doesn't bother suspending his laughter after that.

He's wearing the green glitter suit Ed comes off the stage with and it matches with Barbara's sequin dress. It seems to Ed like a picture of that shared future at the top after Oswald's death that both of them not-so-deep-down knew would never happen.

He scoffs, pushes past Barbara, _right through his hallucination_ , and heads to the bar.

After a couple of hours of half-heard conversations with strangers and cheap drinks, Edward has had enough. He needs to fresh out. He can't spot a single familiar face anyway. Well, that over there looks like Selina Kyle but she'd probably try to rob him.

Unfortunately, the quieter the club crowd gets, the louder the voice of the Riddler rings in Ed's ears. He goes to the clinic to get a gauze for his hand.

That mirror must have been broken by a drunken guest. 

  
  


_"What the Hell happened to me?"_

**Author's Note:**

> Once or twice, I regret that you got played  
> Now you're sober, party's over  
> It's just awkward moments  
> It's just me, sociopathic tendencies  
> Smiling faces, cold embraces  
> Testing my composure  
> \- I Don't Love You by Cruel Youth  
> (tittle from the same song)  
> ((pls talk to me about the song in relation to the fic!))
> 
> I went and wrote some typos in Grundy's POV since I thought it fits the character but if it's annoying to read please do tell so I can correct them!


End file.
